


All caught up in this

by redsprite



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Chains, Desperately in love, Dubious Consent, Hello learning curve, How to tag this?, I guess it's still torture if it's mostly unintended, I'll add tags as they'll come up with later chapters, Ineffable Idiots, Maybe even more if Aziraphale would kindly start being a bit more cooperative, Non-Sexual Submission, Other, Torture, a lot more pain than I anticipated, but it's pre Armageddon so they deal with it as well as you'd expect, but please dear readers skip accordingly if any of this is not for you, demonic posession but literally, it'll happen I swear, not bdsm because this is not a game, pains, they're called idiots for a reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-07-27 09:43:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20043925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsprite/pseuds/redsprite
Summary: They’re overrun by demons, and the only way Crowley can hide Aziraphale is in plain sight, as his personal prisoner. Aziraphale plays along because they just pretend. Crowley is going to let him go as soon as possible. Right? Right? Wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A little dubconfest, because I’m in a terrible mood and someone has to suffer. Or so I thought. This did not turn out as I thought it would. Where’s my cute little submission fic, who put all this pain in there? Wtf, Aziraphale, can't you, for once in your life, not be that bitch? I can make no promises at this point, because I don’t exactly know where this story is going, but if you’d like to come and read along, I’d be happy!

_Early Eighteenhundreds, in the middle of somewhere_

“You have to trust me on this, angel,” hissed Crowley, wrapping more chain around his hand. “I can get you out of this alive, I can protect you. It won’t be pretty, it won’t be easy, but I won’t let anyone lay a single finger on you.”

Aziraphale’s eyes darted to the determined face of Crowley, Crowley, who had come to his rescue often enough, and did it again, and then to the infernal noise outside, in the streets. “I… could try to hide.”

“Like dozens of demons wouldn’t find an angel they already know is here within seconds? The only way to hide you is in plain sight. I can protect you, angel, but you have to let me. You have to play along.”

Aziraphale’s eyelashes flattered nervously, but then he nodded. “I guess there is no other way… just don’t let go of me.”

Crowley tried a smile, unsuccesfully. “Never. I’m not letting you go, I promise. I’ll keep you safe.”

He closed one end of the chain around his arm, and it burned through his clothes. Not into his flesh, because a demon’s body didn’t burn well, but it seared itsself onto his skin nonetheless.

Slowly, and very carefully, he put the other end of the long chain around the angel’s neck, wrapping it around the collar twice, careful not to let the copper-colored metal touch skin yet.

“Once the demons are here, I can’t break character. Not for a second. I really really need you to trust me.”

Aziraphale nodded.

“Play along, and I can get you out of here. When I close this end of the chain, you’ll feel like putting up a fight, because you won’t like it. Fight me, it’ll look more realistic if you do. Make it believable. Just don’t kill me.”

The yelling from outside became louder, and it came closer.

Crowley took the last free end of the chain in his hand and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he said in his softest voice. “I’m sorry.”

He closed the chain and pulled it tight.

Aziraphale screamed.

\--

Mostly from surprise because Crowley had not exaggerated, he hated this, he wanted to fight this, he NEEDED to get this off him. It was vile. It was painful, cutting into his skin and the flesh underneath. It made moving hard. Not only because the chain cut into his skin, but because it pressed against his very nature, like only the big human catastrophes had done before.

“Take it off, Crowley!” he screamed, clawing at the chain, trying to keep it from cutting into him, but he only burnt his hands. 

He felt celestial energy build up all around him. No, that wouldn’t do, that would hurt Crowley, but now, all of sudden, the room was full of demons, and Aziraphale needed them to back off. He kicked Crowley away from himself, only to find himself yanked along with that chain that linked them. But now all demons were at an equal distance and Crowley was by far the strongest demon in the room, so Aziraphale didn’t mind firing a big unfocussed attack that showered the whole room in angelic wrath.

The demons cried in pain and scrambled further away. Some pointed weapons at him.

“NO!” roared Crowley. “HE’S MINE! FIVE THOUSAND EIGHTHUNDRED YEARS I’VE WAITED FOR THIS. BACK OFF EVERYONE! THIS IS MY FIGHT!”

Aziraphale didn’t wait to see if the demons obeyed, he used the distraction to let loose quite a bit more of that wrath, directed at Crowley’s arm where the other end of the chain was fastened to.

The chain didn’t come off on either end. Crowley was in a lot more agony that Aziraphale had intended, but Aziraphale was angry now, and he had been told to make it believable.

“LET! ME! GO!”

A very hard punch hit his head, and he couldn’t believe it. Crowley had never hit him before!  
“No, you let go of me, you let go of me now!” growled Crowley, and more punches, laced with demonic energy, rained down on his head, and eventually on his face. Aziraphale didn't much care for that.

Just don’t kill me? Of course he wouldn’t kill Crowley. But he could fight. It had been a very, very, very long time since he last had to, and he hadn’t wanted to be remembered of it again, but it was still there. 

He threw himself on Crowley, firing another blast, that miraculously missed all vital demonic organs, and brought pulled them both onto the floor. It was almost ridiculously easy to get the upper hand, to anticipate every move Crowley would make. Crowley was too predictable, and his own body hadn’t forgotten how to be fast at responding to a threat.

Crowley had managed to shorten the chain further by wrapping it around his wrist, so when Aziraphale finally had him pinned down under his body, held half by energy, half by determination, the chain pulled him so close to Crowley that their faces almost touched.

“Don’t make me do this,” Aziraphale said, tears in his eyes, his voice strangled from the pressure and pain around his neck. “Take it off. Don’t make me kill you.”

“It’s your choice,” hissed Crowley. His sunglasses had long been knocked off, and the strain from Aziraphale’s attacks had made his eyes more snake-like than Aziraphale had seen in a long, long time, and a lot more intense. “Destroy me and get destroyed by the chain in return, or stand down and accept defeat. I’ve finally, finally got you, after thousands of years, there’s nothing you can offer me that I want more than you. But I have a lot I can offer you. You might not like it, but it’ll be better than death.”

Aziraphale became aware that one of his tears was dangerously close to falling on Crowley. Most things on him were safe for Crowley to touch. But tears were very different. He had to decide quickly. Play along, Crowley had said.

“I accept,” he said. “Defeat.”


	2. Chapter 2

The moment the angel didn’t press down on him any more, Crowley was on his feet and hissed at the room full of cranky demons who had a few bones to pick with this angel who had blasted his blessing attacks onto them.

Crowley was having none of it and waved them all off.

“Back off! Back off! The whole lot of you! This is my angel! I’ve chased him for almost six thousand years.”

“Brings a tear to my eye, Crowley. Come on. You don’t need all of him all the time.”

“None of you guys would survive a minute alone with him. The one holding the chain is me and I say fuck off. Whoever touches him dies. I’m going to stand next to him and applaude the angel for smiting every single one of you suckers if you don’t keep a respectful distance.” 

Aziraphale did his best to look threatening, or at least serious, and not like someone who really really didn’t want to be here right now and also really really didn’t like to be half-strangled by some demonic thing around his neck.

Crowley made another big movement with his free arm.

“If you think you’re tough enough to take an angel, why don’t you go get your own, there’s millions of them.”

The demon who had done most of the talking made a calming gesture. “Man, Crowley, what’s with all the hostilities, we’re here to join your efforts. You could be a bit more hospitable.”

Crowley glared at him. “You didn’t join my efforts, I’ve put one hell of an effort into this town and then you lot come marauding in and tear it all down, with no word in advance. I call that sabotaging my efforts. Who are you even?”

“Rekor and associates. We’ve been told you’ll let us use the house, and join the campaigne.”

“Use the house and keep the fuck out of my business, and be glad if I keep out of yours.”

“Are you sure that’s what your orders are?”

Crowley glared at the demon who had too much of a scarf situation going. “Are you sure you want to go and complain to Duke Hastur’s face about it? He’s going to have my report about how you guys bumbled into my line of work by the end of the week anyway, let’s see how he likes you bitching about it.”

All the demons growled. 

Another one, tiny but fierce, with a face that looked half melted, piped up.

“Let us watch at least! Let’s see how you make the angel suffer for what he did to us!”

Crowley smirked and pulled himself up into a much less defensive, much more Crowley stance.

“You know nothing about angels, snotty. That’s not what you do with an angel. I’m not going to make my angel suffer. That only makes them holier. I’m going to do what I do best. I’m going to make this angel _sin_.”

He let his tongue make one testing move up Aziraphale’s face, taking in the taste, the shape of lips, nose, and eyes, not sparing the bruises.

Aziraphale made a face, but didn’t move his head away. His neck hurt, and he wouldn’t have given the demons the satisfaction anyway.

“I don’t think my side is going to like that,” he said in a soft voice.

“That, my sweet angel, is the whole point,” purred Crowley, and trailed his tongue over Aziraphale one more time. “They’re cordially invited to try and stop me, but I doubt they’ll bother. They’ll probably give you up as a lost cause. You accepted defeat, after all. You’ve made your bed, now lie in it.”

The demons cheered and howled approvingly.

“And none of you suckers get to watch any of it,” added Crowley, to a chorus of boos.

Aziraphale drew himself up to his full height and started some self-righteous comment, laid it on thick, and did all the bad, the very bad exaggerated faces.

Crowley had forgotten what an incredibly bad actor and liar Aziraphale was. The angel even bristled. With a bruised face, and Hell’s chain around his neck.

He had to nip this problem in the bud. Aziraphale was not allowed to play this as a bad acting gig. It looked like Crowley had to be a lot more convincing. A lot more.

He caught Aziraphale after just one sentence, and struck his mouth with the back of his hand. Aziraphale looked at him, hurt and confused, completley not understanding what was happening.

Time to make clear to the angel what exactly was happening here.

“There is one particular sin I don’t care for,” he growled. “And that is pride. That one is not for you. You’re an angel, you’ll be humble and obedient.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Crowley?”

“That’s Mister Crowley, for you,” Crowley said coldy. “I can see the first thing I’ll have to teach you is manners.”

He turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

He kept the chain short, making Aziraphale stumble behind him, and hissed a warning at the other demons that they’d stay out of his way if they knew what was good for them. Most of them would, fury, lust and admiration in their eyes. But with demons, you just never knew.

That was something Aziraphale had forgotten, and he would remind him.


	3. Chapter 3

He reached his favourite room under the roof, stomped in, slammed the door shut and threw the angel against a wall so hard that the whole house trembled.

“DO YOU THINK THIS IS A GAME?!” he roared with a fury he usually only knew for mildew on houseplants. This was almost as bad. “DO I NEED TO REMIND YOU WHO YOU ARE?!”

Aziraphale looked at him with big, astonished eyes, somewhat shaken from being thrown into a wall, but not nearly shaken enough.

Crowley had clearly not made himself understood yet.

“What the heavens do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. “Do you think this is a play? Do you think this is a comedy? What were you thinking behaving like a circus clown when you should have been shaking in your boots?”

Aziraphale still didn’t understand, so Crowley shortened the chain again and gave it a pull, just enough that Aziraphale could feel it burning itsself a bit deeper into his flesh.

Aziraphale groaned.

Crowley kept pressure on the chain, and his eyes on Aziraphale’s face.

But Aziraphale just returned the stare. “You know, I’ve never been afraid of you, ever,” he croaked.  
“Not even now.”

Crowley cursed himself silently for not having thought of this. He gave the chain more length again, reducing the pressure on Aziraphale. Aziraphale needed to listen now, without distraction.

“I think you still don’t understand. This, Aziraphale, is a real binding chain from Hell. At the end of it is a real demon. This is real, Aziraphale.  
I wasn’t lying when I said I won’t let you go. I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve waited thousands of years for this. Why do you think I even had this on me? You’re mine now. Mine for real. Do you understand that?”

For the first time, Crowley could see a flicker of doubt in Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Why are you doing this, Crowley?” he asked.

“Because I can,” he said. “You agreed to this, and let me put the chains of Hell around your neck, willingly. You’re under direct demonic control now, and you shouldn’t take this lightly. Look what the chain’s done to you already. It can get worse, Aziraphale.”

“I will never fear you.”

Crowley smirked. “There are other things I want you to do for me.”

Aziraphale gave him one of these gazes. These gazes that he could feel on his whole body. 

“Sins?” Aziraphale sneered.

“A few of them,” said Crowley. “And a few of the virtues, too. We’re going to keep you angelic enough not to fall, because what would be the point?  
The thing about angels is that obedience counts as a virtue for you, even when it shouldn’t. This chain is going to make obeying me very easy, and disobeying me very hard. The longer you wear it, the better it’ll work. And you’ll wear this for a long time, because these chains don’t come off. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, Aziraphale. Don’t struggle so much, it will be for nothing. In the end, you will obey me.”

Aziraphale stood very stiff, wringing his hands.

“Crowley, you don’t understand. You can’t just exchange obedience to Heaven with obedience to a demon and think it won’t make a difference. The Allmighty has been very clear about not faltering in faith in the face of demonic temptation. The more I suffer, the more steadfast my faith will have to be, and it will be.”

_Not that_, thought Crowley. He hated that. That was what came from other demons, messing around with people, taunting the Allmighty. Those demons weren’t even aware how much they were shooting themselves in their hooves if they made suffering earn people holy points.

“It doesn’t count when it’s self-inflicted suffering,” he hissed. “You can’t willingly put your neck in my chains, then start struggling against them and claim I did that. I promised to keep you safe, and you’re mightily sabotaging that right now. The deal was I get to HAVE you, as long as I have you in safety. I’ve kept all the other demons away from you. Has any of them been able to harm you in any way?”

Aziraphale’s gaze flickered away. “No. And I thank you for that. And now you can let me go.”

“Aziraphale, I’m never going to let you go. Not ever. I can’t, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. Not right now, not when I can have you, even if it’s in chains.”

He could see that Aziraphale was waiting for a hint that there was a hidden meaning, a comforting message about how Crowley wasn’t serious. Crowley just stared at him, still as a snake, not moving a single muscle.

Aziraphale slowly started to understand.

“You tricked me,” he said, still unsure, still a question in his voice.

A question that Crowley dreaded answering. But Crowley reminded himself that there was only one way to protect the worst actor in existence, and that was being the better actor. 

“I’m a demon, it’s what we do. It’s all tricks, all the time. Don’t look at me like this. I defeated you for good, but it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. If you had known what you did was for real, you might have Fallen. But because I tricked you into it, you can remain true to yourself. Appreciate it for what it is, Aziraphale, and stop struggling.”

Sudden understanding struck Aziraphale, and his eyes opened wide.

“You planned this. You thought this through. You really did want this.”

Crowley smiled. 

“And is it such a bad thing? That I want to be with you? That I found the only way in which we can be together without you Falling? Without Hell hounding me down for it? It’s the best we can hope for, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale’s face said that it was clearly not the best thing he had hoped for. And certainly not the least painful. But then his brain caught on, and all remainders of pain fell off his face.

“Be?” he asked, barely audible. “With me?”

“Would I lie to you?” asked Crowley back. “Or, as a demon, wouldn’t I lie to you? Why do you even ask me? Words are cheap. But look at me, here I am, with you.”

Now Aziraphale was confused. Crowley, if he was honest, which as a demon he’d rather not be, was confused too.

Crowley studied his angel’s expression. “Will you hate me for this, Aziraphale?”

“No,” Aziraphale breathed. 

Crowley didn’t allow himself to feel relieved yet. Words _were_ cheap. Even angelic ones. “Good. Glad to hear it. I don’t want you to hate me, Aziraphale. You’re going to hate the chain, I’m afraid, but remember, this chain is what protects you.”

“And you,” said Aziraphale.

Crowley’s smile softened. 

“And me. But your safety will always come first.”

“Oh, Crowley.”

Crowley came close enough that he could let his fingertips brush over Aziraphale’s face. Slowly, he traced it, the way he had tasted it earlier. The bruises under his fingertips were still fading, but he could still feel them. 

“This is not about making you suffer. I’m going to appreciate what you do for me. Your service is going to be meaningful. I’m going to make this rewarding for you. ”

Aziraphale took a deep, shaky breath. “Crowley...” he breathed. But then he shut his mouth again, before any unguarded thoughts escaped, and stood more upright again. “Weren’t you supposed to teach me some manners?”

Yes. That. Crowley sighed and touched Aziraphale’s cheek one last time. “Such a demanding angel I’ve gotten myself. And big on manners. Not much has changed, it seems.”


	4. Chapter 4

Crowley gave the chain some good length so he could throw himself onto a chair without tightening it. The chair offered a very good look at the angel, who still looked quite dishevelled from the fight and the latest revelations, not to mention what the chain had done to his pretty necktie, but stood perfectly upright.

Crowley himself felt dead tired and wildly awake a the same time right now. This rescue of his angel turned out to be a very dangerous wildwater ride with lots of unexpected, Aziraphale-shaped boulders trying to smash their little life-boat. But he could do this. This was a demonic plan, with a demonic artifact, in a house full of demons. If anyone could do this, it was him. At least angels knew what obedience was, so all he had to lay down were some very simple rules.

“Let’s start easy,” he said. “The correct way in which you will addres me is Mr. Crowley. Come on, say it.”

Aziraphale allowed himself a small, disapproving pause. “Mr Crowley?” he said.

“Exactly. And when I give you and order, or ask you a question, you answer: Yes, Mr. Crowley.”

“Yes, Mr. Crowley,” repeated Aziraphale. The tone was incredibly sarcastic, but Crowley ignored that.

“And when I give you an order, you follow it. I can’t stress enough how much you need to do that when you wear that chain. Okay, let’s get some more practical. You’re not going to wear these outdated clothes now that I have a say in that,” he said. “Take them off.”

Aziraphale stiffened. “What?”

“The correct answer is ‘Yes, Mr. Crowley’, and the correct response is to take your clothes off.”

He waited. So did Aziraphale.

Crowley didn’t tighten the chain. He knew he didn’t have to. At this point, it would tighten itsself, and not be subtle. He knew way more than he liked about how these things worked.

There. The chain clinked, Aziraphale’s body jerked. Crowley hated the sight. Why was this angel so stubborn?

“Aziraphale, just do it. It’s not complicated.”

But this was Aziraphale, and he took himself endless minutes to withstand the pain, the demonic grip, the ongoing threat and fear. Crowley gritted his teeth.

“Aziraphale, that’s enough,” said Crowley, knowing that a new order wasn’t going to make things better, but he couldn’t help himself. “Stop it.”

Of course Aziraphale held on for a few more moments, because when this angel had a point to make, he made it. 

“Aziraphale,” said Crowley, finally jumping out of his chair and touching his shoulder, carefully avoiding giving a new order. “Why are you doing this? It’s no use.”

“Take it off,” Aziraphale panted, tears in his eyes. “It’s terrible. Please! Take it off me!”

“I can’t,” said Crowley. “I can’t take Hell’s chains off. They’re not built for that. They will stay on, and they will punish you. It’s what they do, that’s why the other demons respect them. I can keep you from harm from other demons, but I can’t keep you from harm from myself, if you are like that, not with these chains on, and they will be on. You will have to follow my orders. Do you understand that?”

Aziraphale nodded, the red burns on his skin still spreading. This wasn’t good enough.

“Say ‘Yes, Mr. Crowley’, if you understand that.”

And he still took himself an extra second of hesitation, that bastard.

“Yes, Mr. Crowley.”

“Then take off these clothes, now.”

Aziraphale’s hands went to his coat, but it took another ominous clink from the chain, before he added “Yes, Mr. Crowley.” and very slowly started undressing. Aziraphale still showed signs of great pain, and the skin on his neck and half of his face had turned a glowing red shade, but the chain slowly let off.

Crowley let go of him and paced through the room. This wasn’t how he had hoped it would go, but blessit if he wasn’t glad to see that waistcoat go. The shirt underneath it was white, and only a few decades behind in fashion, very wide at sleeves and waist, great amounts of fabric folded into neat pleats at the shoulders.

“You know what, I changed my mind. Keep the shirt, it looks good on you. Reminds me of old times. The rest has to go.”

That fucking second of hesitation was driving Crowley mad, but he got his “Yes, Mr. Crowley.”

Crowley couldn’t stand still, he had to keep on pacing in what little space there was in this room. He used it as a study, because it had good light, and he had absolutely staggering amounts of paperwork to hand in until the end of the week. It turned out that good light also made an undressing angel look real pretty, but Aziraphale was always real pretty, and Crowley had more pressing matters on his mind.

It wasn’t only Aziraphale who had needed to understand the situation they were in. Crowley, too, had had to realize how real the situation was. It was true that he couldn’t take the chains off, but it was also true that he knew people who could. The thing was, for now, that wasn’t an option. For now, he was stuck here, in a house full of demons who were rowdy, disrespectful, and at the brink of a fight. He had an angel that he desperately wanted to protect, and desperately needed to control.

He didn’t want to see Aziraphale suffer. He didn’t want him punished. It was true that he wanted to appreciate him and his service, to reward him. And now Aziraphale didn’t want that. Crowley hadn’t expected that. He should have known better. Aziraphale worked a hard, thankless job for the sake of virtue alone, and while rewards were occasionally given in Heaven, expecting them was strongly discouraged. Angels were expected to be humble. So why, why the heaven had he gotten the one with too much pride to bow to a demon who meant him no harm?

“I’m sorry, Mr. Crowley,” said Aziraphale, right into the middle of these thoughts, while he rolled his stockings down.

“What?” snapped Crowley. “What for?”

“For trying to force your hand,” said Aziraphale, briefly looking up to him. One of these brief looks that always hit Crowley like a hammer. “Trying to make you take the chain off.”

“Seriously, Aziraphale, I can’t. I don’t have that kind of power.”

“I understand that now. You knew that in advance?”

“Yes. I told you.”

Aziraphale sighed, while fighting the sock off his foot. The aggressive red colouring that had crept out from where the chain touches his skin started fading slowly, and Crowley was as delighted about it as he was to see those toes again. “Yes, you did. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Mr. Crowley. You warned me. I should have listened.”

Crowley groaned. “I could have bound you at any given time ever since we knew each other, because you’re a very trusting angel. I did it now because I had no other choice. I’m trying to protect you here, Aziraphale. I would appreciate some help with that.”

“Yes, Mr. Crowley.”

Crowley nodded. “I’m not trying to make you suffer. I’m really not. But you need to be less rebellious. The chain’s very real.”

“Yes, Mr. Crowley. I noticed.”

Finally, Aziraphale had peeled off all the layes of his clothes and stood there in his shirt. It came almost to the mid of this thighs, and Crowley for a moment was tempted to shorten it. But now was not the time to think of that.

“Nice,” he said. “Haven’t seen those legs in a while. But a bit too much angel for those uncultured demons downstairs. A bit longer, I’d say. A nice slit in the side, for fun. Maybe add a belt.”

He snapped his fingers once, then twice, until he was satisfied with the result of a long wite robe that came down to Aziraphale’s mid calf. “Still looking way too good for them, but I can’t help it, I want to show off what a cute angel I’ve got.”

“I don’t remember my shirt being quite so see-through,” said Aziraphale, who was not as happy with the new look as Crowley.

“My point exactly,” grinned Crowley. “If they don’t like what they see, they can look away. You’ve got nothing you need to hide, angel. You’re gorgeous.”

“I’m a being of Divine Grace, Mr. Crowley,” said Aziraphale. “My appearance on Earth needs to reflect that, without inviting thoughts of lesser virtue.”

Crowley chuckled. “Someone in the body department up there didn’t get the memo, I guess?”

For a moment, Aziraphale was deliciously flustered, but then he caught himself again. “I assume this is supposed to tempt me into sin, Mr. Crowley?”

Crowley laughed and grabbed a half empty wine bottle and an empty glass from the windowsill. “It’s just a compliment, Aziraphale. Calm down.”

-

He threw himself into his chair again and poured himself a glass of wine.

“Come, get a bit more comfortable, don’t just stand there. Why don’t you come here and kneel with me?” he said.

The ‘Yes, Mr. Crowley’ sounded just as sarcastic as before, but Aziraphale did come and kneel in front of Crowley and looked up to him.

“Oh, not like this, not yet. Aren’t we a bit greedy?” said Crowley, mildly taunting on the outside, wildly panicking on the inside. “Kneel by my side.”

Aziraphale changed to his right side, the side where the chain was fused to Crowley’s arm. Crowley saw with relief that the chain became markedly less tight, and a little bit less visible. That was good.

“There, that’s better,” said Crowley. “Your throat’s probably not good enough that you can have wine yet, but you can try.”

He gave Aziraphale the glass, and while Aziraphale did cough up the first sip again, he took another one right after that. 

“A very stubborn angel,” said Crowley, and took the glass away again. “Very eager with some of the vices, it seems. Take it slow, there’ll still be wine for you later.”

He put a hand on Aziraphale’s head and very slowly started stroking and massaging Aziraphale’s head with small, careful movements, feeling the short curls run through his fingers, the warmth of Aziraphale’s skin, the cold of his angelic aura. He knew he had knocked Aziraphale on his head somewhat fierce in their fight and tried to find bumps, or bruises, but they were already gone. 

Aziraphale exhaled and relaxed a very tiny bit, and a bit more with every second.

Crowley kept working his way over Aziraphale’s head, still very slowly, savouring every moment. He didn’t have to remind himself not to rush, this was a lot already, a lot more than he had ever known, and probably as much as he could handle right now. 

“This is not very sinful,” Aziraphale said after a while.

Crowley sputtered. “Are you complaining?”

“No, I’m not complaining.” Clink. “Mr Crowley.”

“Am I putting undue hardship onto you by making you wait for us to be more sinful? It’s not supposed to be a hardship when you’re being good, you know. Can’t help things being rough when you fight against my hold, but there’s no need for a sweet angel to suffer when he’s doing what he’s told. If rushing into sin is the reward you want, you shall have it.”

“Mr. Crowley, I assure you this it is not a hardship for me to… not to rush into sin.”

“Oh, so you like sinning slowly is what you’re saying?”

Aziraphale made a very pointed pause. The chain clinked tighter.

“Yes, Mr. Crowley,” he said icily. “That is _entirely_ what I’m saying. _Well done_ for spotting it.”

Crowley kept his voice as soft as his touches. “Tell you something. We’re going to take this at my pace, unless you ask for something else. Nicely.”

“I’m not going to ask for that.”

“You are allowed to ask for rewards when you’ve been good.”

“I’ve been tricked to sit in this boat, but I don’t have to row it.”

“Then you will have to let me row and steer this whereever and however I please,” said Crowley.

Aziraphale said nothing to that.

Crowley wished he could see his angel’s face, but he had seen that face for thousands of years. He had never been allowed to feel what his head, his hair was like under his hands. He loved it, tried to memorize every curve of skull under his hand, every way the curls bent under his touch. If the angel was hellbent on letting him take his time with it, all the better.

He bent down to smell Aziraphale’s hair. He knew what it smelled like, but from up close, the smell became… not stronger. Softer. More intense. More intricate.

_Lovely._

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” he murmured.

“You could have asked,” was Aziraphale’s slightly spiky reply. 

Crowley smiled at the familiar tone. “And would you have let me?”

“Yes, Mr. Crowley. No. No, probably not. I wouldn’t have trusted you not to take it too far.”

“Oh, but now we can assume with quite some certainty that I’m going to take this way too far,” smirked Crowley, not quite as velvety as he had hoped. More… hopeful. With a hint of desperate. Aziraphale tensed under his hand again. 

“Come on, angel, just this bit isn’t so bad, admit it.”

“No, Mr. Crowley, it’s not. But it’s not going to be just this bit.”

“The other bits might not be so bad either.”

The angel made a distinct pause. “Maybe.”

“I can see I need to be more convincing.”


	5. Chapter 5

Crowley still gave himself a few more minutes just ruffling the angel’s hair.

Aziraphale had had a few minutes to think, which was hard, pushing himself through the pain, but all it did was making things more confusing. 

_Trust me. Play along. I can’t break character._

He trusted Crowley. He really did. But he hadn’t thought trusting Crowley would hurt so much, the chain had burnt him badly, the burns took forever to heal. It really hurt.

But what also hurt was that he wasn’t sure any more if he did the right thing. Usually, when he was conflicted between what he himself thought was the right thing to do, and what Heaven said his duty was, it was Crowley who talked him through it. Who told him that kindness was the right choice, not Heaven. And while sowing confusion was undoubtedly his job as an agent of the Other Side, it had always been a great comfort for Aziraphale. The more cruelty Aziraphale had seen in his life, the more he wanted to be kind, even though he knew it wasn’t what was expected of him. 

But this? What was this? What was the right thing, the kind thing to do now? And what were his duties in this situation? Well, apart from smiting all the demons, or rather, being discorporated in a gruesome fashion while trying, which he obviously wasn’t going to do. 

Was it right to let Crowley take control? Who perhaps had good intentions and would save him from being discorporated or even distroyed? Crowley was going about this in a quite demonic way, a lot more selfish than Aziraphale had expected, but he would overlook that, he understood other demons were watching. 

Or was it wrong to allow this? Because Aziraphale was very, very aware that he was being selfish about this, too, and not just for wanting to stay alive. The idea to be allowed near Crowley in a way that wouldn’t put Crowley in danger of Hellish punishment, and the idea that Crowley would take this “way too far”, Aziraphale wanted it. Quite desperately, if he was honest.

Usually, these selfish things that Aziraphale wanted, all these many, many unheavenly things he wanted when he thought of Crowley, were something that would get them in trouble if he’d ever act upon them. Right now, he might get away with it. Heaven might overlook the things he would do while this was ongoing, and pin the blame on Crowley. 

And then they would try to punish Crowley. He had been able to protect Crowley all these years very successfully by being the one who had been put in charge of keeping Crowley’s influence at bay, and keep other angels out of it. But now that he was taken out of that equation, some other angel would be assigned to hunt Crowley down for this. 

No.

That couldn’t be allowed.

It didn’t matter if Crowley had tricked him. It didn’t matter that he felt a little bit betrayed. What mattered was to protect Crowley. If he, Aziraphale, would be the reason that any harm came to Crowley, he would never be able to live with it.  
Chains that burnt him? He could live with those. They hurt a lot less in comparison.

But how could he talk some sense into Crowley? Crowley was always so unreasonable about these things. He wished he could see Crowley’s face, but they were facing the same direction, and Aziraphale’s neck was very opposed to being turned.

“Can I call you Crowley when we’re alone, Mr. Crowley?” he asked, trying to ease Crowley into this a bit. Crowley had relaxed a bit while doing nice things to his hair, but still was awfully tense.

“No, you can’t. You need to learn your new position, and how to pay me respect.”

“I’ve always respected you, Mr. Crowley.”

“Then you need to start sounding like it.”

“Yes, Mr. Crowley. Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure.”

“Mr Crowley, are you sure this whole idea isn’t going to get you in trouble with your side?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, angel. I’m sure.”

“Only I would rather be discorporated by these rowdy demons than see you come to harm for this,” said Aziraphale. “I’m afraid I haven’t really thought this through when I agreed to this.”

“Aziraphale, it’s going to be okay. This doesn’t look like I’ve changed sides to anyone, believe me.”

Aziraphale blinked nervously. “That you tied yourself to me?”

“They won’t see it like that. They know how these chains work, all they’ll see is that I’m the one who gives the orders, of course they expect you’ll be serving me, as the good obedient angel that you are.”

Aziraphale’s mouth twitched disapprovingly. “They obviously don’t know me.”

Crowley first hummed in approval, but then growled again. “This isn’t funny, Aziraphale. I know you’re stubborn, I know I tricked you, and you think this is some kind of joke. It really is not, because if it was, we’d both be in trouble.”

“I don’t think it’s a joke,” said Aziraphale. “And unfortunately, my side won’t think that either.”

He gently put a hand on Crowley’s thigh, and then, even more gently, placed a kiss next to his hand, onto the black fabric of Crowley’ trousers. His neck and throat, still raw, were protesting fiercely, but he pushed through that. He had a point to make. 

“Wh… gk… what was that for?” asked Crowley. 

Oh, Crowley. So easily unsettled by the slightest sign of affection.

Aziraphale had to sit upright again, for the sake of his neck, but left his hand where it was. The chain hadn’t burnt him again. He hadn’t disobeyed. Not that it would have stopped him. 

He smiled.

“You were right, Mr. Crowley,” he said. “I went into this willingly, and I’ll willingly comply or face the consequences. I’ll take full responsibility for my choice.”

“What?” said Crowley, a bit exasperated as he’d always be in these kinds of discussions. Actually, quite a bit more exasperated as expected. Well, Aziraphale felt quite exasperated himself right now. 

“Angel, no, you can’t do that! I tricked you! It’s not your fault! That’s the whole point of this! You’re being forced, not your fault, the bad demon makes you do stuff!”

“And if something goes wrong, you’ll let the whole blame and damage fall on your head? I’m sorry, Mr. Crowley, but I can’t let you do that.”

“Aziraphale, you are not helping. This is all about protecting you, not me.”

“Thank you, Mr. Crowley. I feel quite well protected right now and insist on returning the favour.”

Crowley didn’t seem to agree, so Aziraphale tried to reassure him with more than words. He let the thumb of the hand that rested on Crowley’s thigh make small, gentle movements.

It didn’t seem to calm Crowley down, unfortunately. Crowley’s breath became a bit ragged, and Aziraphale had to remind himself to focus on the argument at hand. How he wished to overwrite the pain with pleasure! What a tempting demon this was.

“Aziraphale, why?” 

Because I don’t want to be with you in a way that destroys you, thought Aziraphale, but he wouldn’t be able to say it. Be with you. It was too painful, for Crowley, but also for himself. 

Crowley would take such risks for him. The least Aziraphle could do was share the risks, like they had done for centuries.

“Mr Crowley, we can’t do this if it puts you in such danger,” he said. “You think you found a loophole, but it’ll only work if Heaven really does put the blame on me instead of going after you, and they won’t do that if they think I am bring overpowered here, or doing it against my will.”

“Aziraphale, what about your safety?”

“I have a lifetime of mostly good service counting in my favour. Nothing they’d consider doing to me would be as bad as what they’d do to you.”

“To me? In case you forgot, your side already has done their worst to me. The worst is already behind me, Aziraphale, but it’s not behind you!”

“I don’t think I’m going to Fall for taking advantage of one demon in order to trick other demons,” said Aziraphale.”Even if some selfish thoughts might factor into the whole proceedings.”

“What? No, you’re not. You’re not taking advantage of me. Aziraphale, you need to take this seriously.”

“I assure you I am taking this very seriously,” said Aziraphale. Why was it always so incredibly hard to convince Crowley not to put himself in danger? “Mr Crowley, I’m willing to play this according to your rules, but you’re not the sole owner of the game.”

“Ugh, okay, fine!” huffed Crowley. “We tricked each other. Everyone can book it as a success for their side. Happy now?”

“Yes, Mr. Crowley,” said Aziraphale with a much softer voice. “I’m sorry I upset you. Can I make it up to you?” He very slowly let his hand wander.

Crowley grabbed his hand and pulled it off his thigh. “What the fuck, Aziraphale? No you can not! I’m not going to fuck you that fresh out of pain. I know you’ll want to, it’s what happens when your body stops screaming and goes to the other extreme. Get over it, Aziraphale. If I’m going to take this anywhere, then I’m going to put some actual Temptation with a capital T into it, and not just wait til your body stops hurting. Give me some credit, angel.”

Aziraphale turned enough to look him into the eyes, pushing himself through a new wave of pain.  
“My body has not stopped hurting yet,” he said. 

Crowley stared at him angrily, still holding on to his hand. “All the more reason we’re not doing it now. Not while most of your body is still fighting the pain, the demonic hold. There’s things we can do that I don’t want to become part of the struggle. Part of the hold over you.”

It was a while until Aziraphale answered. 

“What if it would make me feel better?”

“That’s exactly why it would be part of the problem.”

It took Aziraphale even longer to answer ot that.

“I guess I have a confession to make,” he finally started. “I’ve always been afraid that I could get tempted by you and then my side would punish you for it. Or that I could Fall, and leave you behind, all alone, with no one to keep my side from taking it out on you. That you have taken these fears and replaced them with whatever this is… this is nothing, Mr. Crowley. If this is as good as it gets, not destroying you, I’ll gladly struggle. It’s a small price.”

“But you don’t have to struggle,” said Crowley in his softest voice. “We can be a patient. This isn’t as good as it gets. It’s going to be a lot better.”

“Yes, Mr. Crowley,” said Aziraphale, with an eyeroll that transported to his voice.

“Blessit, Aziraphale, have a little patience, will you? You can still take advantage of me later.”

“Yes, Mr. Crowley. Thank you, Mr. Crowley.”

Crowley filled his glass of wine again and downed it in one long draw.

“That was not a carte blanche, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled.

“Of course, Mr. Crowley.”


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley sighed deeply. 

“Okay, angel, as you’re so cooperative now, we need to get you more comfortable. We need this chain to give up a bit of its hold, and it’ll do that if you’re a good angel.”

Crowley gave him a number of orders. Put your clothes in that drawer. Bring me this. Bring me that. Open the window. No, close it again. Sit on my desk. Nice view, angel. 

But he could see that the chain only moved millimeters, only released its hold very reluctantly. What were they doing wrong?

“I don’t know what’s happening, Aziraphale. It should be off your skin now, hanging loose. I don’t kow why it clings to you like this.”

“I think I do, Mr. Crowley” said Aziraphale, his voice a bit brittle by now. 

He sat upright, his hands folded in his lap so the view wasn’t as interesting as it could have been. The daylight in his back made good for it by shining through his hair, lighting it up. But Crowley couldn’t really enjoy it, because this was a very crumpled, unhappy angel. 

“You said it punishes disobedience,” Aziraphale continued. “I think it can sense my… my…” He closed his eyes for a moment. “You know I follow Heaven’s orders. I have to. I’m an angel. I’ve just… become so bad at it over the years. It makes me so… sad, I think.”

Oh, angel, thought Crowley.

“They’ve ordered you to stand aside and watch people suffer a few times too often.”

Aziraphale blinked some tears away. “It doesn’t mean I’m a rebel. I still try to be good. I try to help, to make people’s lives better. It brings me joy. 

But when I get ordered to do it, it reminds me that they can just as well order me not to do it, and the good I do feels… less worthy. Less valued. Like the good I’d do out of my own volition isn’t good enough. And I only realize now that I’ve come to… to…” He took a deep breath. “To resent being ordered to do what I already know I need to do. That I resent to obey.”

I could have told you that hundreds of years ago, thought Crowley. 

“Don’t..” he said, but caught himself in time. He couldn’t say this like it was an order. “There’s no need to feel bad about that,” said Crowley. “It makes you a better angel.”

That made Aziraphale smile, at least a little. “I doubt it,” he said. 

It makes you the only good thing that came out of Heaven, thought Crowley. 

“It makes you the best angel,” said Crowley.

Aziraphale sighed, but he did seem to feel a bit better. “Right now, what it does is get me in trouble,” he said. “This is really quite painful. It makes it hard to think of anything else.”

“I could try to ease the pain, but it’ll only make it worse next time,” said Crowley. “Punishment’s increasing over time. If we can get the chain to come off your skin, you’ll heal. We need to find something for you to do that you don’t resent so much.”

“Yes, please,” breathed Aziraphale, and Crowley got thinking.

“The ruffling of the hair went well,” said Crowley, “I didn’t have to tell you to let me do it, I just could do it. And you said you’d rather obey without being told to. So, maybe unspoken demands work better.”

He got up from his chair and towered over the angel who still sat on his desk. He stood a bit to the side, so the angel wouldn’t have had to open his legs to let him closer, because Crowley didn’t trust himself with that kind of closeness yet. “I’ll try something, and we’ll see if you let me.”

Crowley put a hand on the angel’s head and started combing through his hair again, gently, carefully. This should be fun, but he was nervous, and the angel, too. It seemed to go well at first, the chain clinked as it slowly released its grip. But it soon started tightening again.

“Aziraphale,” hummed Crowley in a soft voice, “What is it?”

“I don’t know.”

Crowley sighed. “Aziraphale,” he said. “You said you’d willingly give up control. That was your way to shoulder responsibility. By really letting me do this. Remember?”

“Yes.”

“Then can you please let me do this now? If you fight me, I’m the bad guy. I’m the one who forces your hand. Do you want me to do that?”

“No.”

“Then give in, Aziraphale. Just for now. Give in.”

Aziraphale’s “Yes, Mr. Crowley” was so soft, it was almost a whisper. Aziraphale closed his eyes.

Crowley continued stroking his hair, combing through individual curls, massaging small circles, and slowly, but steadily, the chain opened up. Crowley added his other hand, doing the same thing, massaging head and temples, carefully staying away from the aggressively red skin that crept up from the chain, carefully not to hurt his angel. And to his relief, the angel let him, and both angel and tension of the chain relaxed.

When the chains had opened wide enough, he carefully pushed them over Aziraphale’s robe, so they wouldn’t touch skin for now. The robe was too thin, so for now, he made it more sturdy. Bit of a shame about the view, but he could leave that for later.

He placed a soft kiss on the top of Aziraphale’s head.  
The chains didn’t react, so Aziraphale didn’t resent that? Crowley couldn’t have stopped himself for anything now. He was too nervous to be excited, but still utterly addicted to the smell of Aziraphale’s hair and the softness of his head. Crowley added more kisses, until he had kissed a little pentagram on Aziraphale’s head. Still no resentment. That was very interesting.

“Very good, angel,” he said. “It looks like you’re very good at obedience, provided I only ask you to do something you want to do,” said Crowley with a fond smile. 

“Probably,” conceded Aziraphale. 

“Hmmm...” Crowley let his eyes wander over his angel. “Looks like I have to find out what it is you like then.”

+

He needed to stop. He needed Aziraphale to heal first. He had made this clever speech about how he didn’t want Aziraphale to come to him for pain relief, how he didn’t want the chain to force them.  
And now he couldn’t stop.

They hadn’t touched often. When they had had a night together in the past, they had always been very drunk to forget what would wait for them if they were caught.

And yet they couldn’t keep their hands off each other for long. But Crowley had never been this sober. Technically, Aziraphale wasn’t drunk right now, but getting hurt and burnt and controlled by demonic energy probably had thrown him off as much as drinking would have.

Of course Crowley had expected that touching Aziraphale would be nice. It was more than nice though. The way Aziraphale closed his eyes, exhaled and melted into Crowley’s touch was too nice to stop.

So when Crowley was done stroking Aziraphale’s hair, he found himself taking one of the angel’s hand, and kissing his way over every single finger, up the knuckles, down the insides, and ending kissing his palm, his wrist, and then his arm.

The uppermost part of the arm was burnt, and he had to stop, but Aziraphale had another hand and another arm, and Crowley lost himself in how sweet and soft and strong Aziraphale’s limbs were. As his lips traced over Aziraphale’s fingers, he found himself wondering if he’d continue with the feet and legs next, and if Aziraphale would enjoy that.

Aziraphale definitely enjoyed this. Crowley knew this tiny smile, he knew if Aziraphale would open   
his eyes, they would be shining.

And this was not what he had wanted to do. He had wanted to wait. He had wanted this for Aziraphale to be only good, not interlaced with gross pain, and probably fear. He did his angel wrong, and Aziraphale played along. Maybe he did yearn for touch as much as Crowley, it had been too long, too long by far. But it wasn’t good for Aziraphale, not good enough, and something about Aziraphale quietly enjoying himself as good as was possible under these circumstances made it worse.

“I don’t deserve this,” murmured Crowley, kissing Aziraphale’s thumb.

Aziraphale didn’t even open his eyes. “I dare say we deserve each other.”

“No, I don’t deserve you,” said Crowley, leaving his lips a bit longer in Aziraphale’s palm.

Now Aziraphale opened his eyes and looked at him worriedly. “Is this good for you? What we do now?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Yes. Yes, very good.”

“Then you deserve it.”

And that was so Aziraphale. Only one angel could take a situation that should be unhappy for both of them and make it not just good, but shine. Aziraphale always had this ability to bring out something good in everything. As a demon, Crowley shouldn’t like it. It shouldn’t feel this good. But it did. He hadn’t Fallen because he had lost hope. There had to be hope for the Fallen, because you didn’t survive Hell without something to cling to. Earth, with her beautiful plants, and Humanity, with their inventiveness and their curiosity, had been something to hope for. But now he had someone to hope with, someone who not only waited for good things to come, but made them happen. And he had come so very close to taint this hope today, this best thing in his life. And if he didn’t stop now, he could still do too much, do something the angel couldn’t make good again. But he couldn’t stop.

His kisses trailed up the angel’s arm, and all he could hope for was that Aziraphale wouldn’t just sit there and soak it up like sunshine. 

He had never tied Aziraphale down, or controlled what they did. He was the quicker one, the more eager one, like a true demon he flared up with Lust, and it was always Aziraphale who cooled him back down. Aziraphale wouldn’t do that now. 

Crowley was on his own, and he was drowning. He understood now why Aziraphale had seen that he was just as tied into this as the angel. This wasn’t even about Lust. This was about being allowed to reach out and touch the angel, anytime. Being able to get close. 

When he was done kissing the second arm, Crowley finally could tear away from Aziraphale. But it was hard. He wanted to keep the angel close, in touch, all the time. It had been a lie when he had told Aziraphale that he wouldn’t let him go. Right now, it felt true.


End file.
